


Left Behind

by theosymphany



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Memories, Nivanfeels, Reflection, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theosymphany/pseuds/theosymphany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small flashback is enough to trigger a lasting memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this ahead of July 1st because it'd be too sad otherwise. It's still going to be a sad day, but that's what The Ultimate Weapon is for. That's where the happiness goes. Nivanfield is a spectrum of emotions, just can't have one without the other.

He couldn’t forget the sight.

A lone green scarf hanging on a branch of an old dead tree, fluttering weakly in the torrents of the wind.

Never quite hanging on; never quite letting go.

A wailing scarf, waiting without its owner. Was it abandoned? Was it lost? Willingly parted or unmercifully ripped? He found his mind fraught with questions. Why was it on the tree? Was it a memoir, left by one for someone else? Was it a treasure possession, snatched from its owner by the uncaring wind and abandoned to its cold, derelict fate? Was it forgotten by one who sat on the branches and pondered the world, still now searching and hurting from an honest oversight?

The origins may have been many, but the outcome was one. Scarf and owner, forever parted.

And just like that, the wounds in his heart had opened beneath the tender barbed scars, and the bleeding that he had barely managed to staunch since the last trigger ebbed open once again, flowing freely from heart to veins to steams of warmth from his eyes. In mere moments he was shattered in pieces again, broken at the haunting sight of a forgotten scarf.

Memories of old resurfaced. A green scarf he had once procured and gifted to his second in command. He wanted it for warmth, for camouflage, for protection- from himself, from others, from the elements.

It was an emblem of trust, of partnership. He was his provider, his shield, his warmth, his shelter, his camouflage. He would draw the attention of the wilds and keep his partner safe.

Until the day he didn’t, and the scarf was splattered in regretful crimson, bearing the ultimate price of a soldier’s loyalty. A Lieutenant’s love. A partner’s sacrifice.

Green had been his colour of attire for over 15 years. Green is now his regret till his dying days.

Red had been his name all his life. Red is still his tragedy this point forward.

Green cotton meshed fabric soaked in crimson red blood. The essence of life hanging off a lone dead tree. Not the green of tender young leaves, but the green of battered, corroded copper. The young and soft laid at the altar of the old and scarred. The comfort and warmth guarding that which no longer held it.

He took pity on the abandon fabric and tucked it to his care. It was roughened and weathered, just like he was, but it deserved to have another chance at its purpose, that it could still preserve a sliver of warmth to a heart that was almost, but not quite completely dead.

He struggled through the wind, he and his shadow.  The tattered edge of the scarf fluttering on the broad shoulder, waving a silent farewell to the old tree who had been its unwitting host.

The good die young. The perfect lay broken. The hopeful gets torn. The battered, the beaten, the suffering are instead cursed to roam and wallow in the hollow shell of existence called life.

The man kept walking on. He had been wandering for two years.

Never quite hanging on; never quite letting go.

Because he shouldn’t. Because he couldn’t. Because he wouldn’t.

He deserves it. He deserves to be remembered.

He deserves him, even if he didn’t deserve him.

Every scarf deserves an owner.

No one gets left behind.

Just him.


End file.
